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R E T N E C F OF MAGAZINE Central Connecticut State University May 2011

the love and sex issue


OFF-CENTER STAFF EDITOR-IN-CHIEF Melissa Cordner ASSISTANT EDITORS Jen Glifort Vanessa Johnson Michael McClellan LAYOUT/PRE-PRESS Kasey Gordon MEDIA EDITOR Rob Capossela COVER ART Kasey Gordon

Have a different opinion? Want to contribute? Write to Off-Center Magazine at offcentermagazine@yahoo.com or find us on facebook

EXECUTIVE BOARD PRESIDENT Melissa Cordner VICE PRESIDENT Rob Capossela TREASURER Justin Blain SECRETARY Jen Glifort Views expressed are not necessarily the views supported by Off-Center Magazine or CCSU.

CONTENTS CCSU

3. Letter From the Editor 4. Overheard In New Britain 5. CCSU Says:Your Answers to Our Questions! 6. Teacher Profile: Professor Nunn 8. Searching Sex at CCSU 10. The 10 Worst Things About Dorm-Room Sex 12. Fornication 101 14. Inteview With A Sadist

General Interest 16. Twelve Steps To Becoming A Romantic Poet 18. How To Make A Relationship Last 20. Five Gestures To Show You Care 21. Love And Sex 22. Dating Etiquette

Writing Contest 23. First Date Fail Winner: “Failed First Dates” 24. Romantic Date Winner: “A First Night In Paris” 26. Awkward Experience Winner: “Darth Vader Destroys Date” 28. Overall Contest Winner: “Like A Virgin”

Entertainment 30. What Does Your Relationship Say About Your Personality? 31. Texts From Last Night


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LETTER FROM THE EDITOR Dear CCSU, Jen doesn’t know I’m using this picture. And she’s probably going to beat me with a rolled-up magazine when she finds out. I figured I’d print it anyway though, because—no getting around it—this is my last letter. And THAT means, I get to do what I want—including introduce you to your NEXT Editor-in-Chief without her knowledge or consent. I wanted to use this picture, first of all to get her used to having no shame, and second of all to prove to you that you have nothing to worry about—Jen is every bit as weird as I am. As an added bonus, she will most definitely be better about that whole time management thingy than I was. It’s weird to know I won’t be editing Off-Center anymore after this issue, but it comes with a consolation prize: you HAVE to read this issue cover-to-cover or risk insulting me terribly. I don’t think this’ll be much of a challenge though, because our love-and-sex themed issue sports some of our most interesting content yet. Did you miss the “Fornication 101” event on campus last month? We covered it! Ever wanted to ask a dominatrix what her job is like? Check out page fourteen. English major? Get your erotica (how to become a Romantic poet!) right here on page sixteen! All this accompanied by articles about starting a relationship, keeping a relationship, not messing up your first date—and then some! In fact, we’ve had SO MUCH material submitted to this issue that I actually had to hold off on printing some of it (BEST graduation present EVER, by the way). I KNOW I promised you squirrel stories and “It’ll Get Better” in our last issue, but I only said those articles were “coming soon”—I didn’t say when. Now, you might notice, I even took out the “coming soon” page altogether to make room for more LOVE AND SEX. And that’s STILL not all, because we’ve also held another writing contest since we last talked! We picked a winner for each of our three categories as well as an overall contest photo courtesy of Melissa Cordner winner; check out our victors starting on page twenty-three. You know, I’ve been plotting for months about what kinds of wisdom I was going to impart to all of you in my final letter from the editor. And now that it’s here, I’ve nixed it all. First of all, college is about self-discovery, not reading someone’s experiences and taking the lessons learned by that individual as one’s own. Second of all, none of you would listen to me even if I took the time to do that. There’s a reason that today’s young adult literature stories have the same themes as the Odyssey, folks. So instead of going on and on about me in closing, I thought I’d take this opportunity to talk about you. Yes, you, dear reader, because you are the reason that this letter is possible. If you weren’t around to read and respond to this letter, it wouldn’t really make a difference what I said in it, would it? But it does matter, and YOU, you wonderful unique individual, are part of the reason why. You’re who I’m writing for—and you’re who I hope submits something for publication next year (offcentermagazine@yahoo.com). Remember the whole point of this magazine, CCSU—your voice counts, no matter what your opinion is or how eloquent your prose happens to be. Hello, editing is what they ‘pay’ us for. So in short, thanks, CCSU—to those utter strangers of you who first signed my club petition, to those of you picking up your first Off-Center today… to those of you who make up the Off-Center eboard, staff, writing base, and membership. I know I get a lot of credit because you all insist on using my picture to illustrate at least three articles an issue, but the truth is, none of this is possible without you guys—ALL of you, every single one of you on the League. So thanks, and that’s all I’ll say here—I’ll get you tonight at the club dinner. I feel like I should end on some poetic wistful note—you know, hold onto your dreams and all that—but if there’s one thing college has taught me, it’s that dreams only happen if you couple them with attitude. So in closing, CCSU, I ask of you only this: be nice to Jen. And give everyone who deserves it hell. -Melissa


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OVERHEARD IN NEW BRITAIN: Strange Things Our Instructors Say...

compiled by Jen Glifort

Your lecture notes are your best friends. Love them, cuddle with them, feed them chocolate, and sleep with them by your pillow. They are your friends. Professor:You’re late! Student: I just got out of five hours of bio-molecular science! Professor:You may file that under, do I give a shit! Student: I’ll get right on that. Professor:Yeah, and I’m the tooth fairy. Just start packing up. No, I love that. It makes me feel all warm and fuzzy inside.

(c) 2007 Piotr Lewandowski

Human beings are highly sexual creatures. We are, as you might say, “randy little monkeys.” However, I am a good, old-fashioned prude and will try to avoid this as much as possible. Sorry, it can’t happen. It’s against the rules of Pope-ness. I don’t think if we all got together in a cabin in the woods with lots of caffeine and ballpoint pens that we could write a book this good. This is crazy—like Eskimos defeating the U.S. Army crazy. If you kick a little old lady, the gods will be mad at you.

I took the blue and orange pill because I liked the colors of it. I didn’t really feel the drugs ‘til I was at dinner and the clock moved from six to quarter of six. Don’t give up. It never ends. My 97-year-old father’s wife says she’d have kids by now if she still had a uterus. Any man that wanted a vasectomy would get a free toaster.

Every historian has to have their one crackpot theory. Mine’s that the pyramids were built by giant intergalactic space doughnuts. I mean, they couldn’t land on the ground or they’d get dirt on their sugar-glazed goodness. I didn’t say this, and if you ask I will deny it, but you are welcome to bring your dogs to class. They’ll put me in a good mood.

In this class, on top of learning about history you also get various tips on how to conquer the world.

It’s almost like Uncle Sam wants us to have sex!

So Moses had to go up the mountain a second time, and was like, ‘you know that memo? Can I get a copy?’

I actually read that book just after we stopped using a mallet and chisel to take notes in school.

Congratulations! You just killed Beethoven!

I shouldn’t make fun of them, I went to grad school. You have to be crazy to read that many books.

That was a joke. I hate this class. I have one cold, you have another. Let’s not share. I like to call this the impossible class because we’re supposed to discuss the history of the whole freaking world from 2000 BCE to the Renaissance. I’ve gotten drunk talking about Emily Dickinson. She takes at least three bottles of wine.

We COULD commit all of these to memory and then list them on the exam. Let’s not, shall we? The answer is to take up juggling, right?


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CCSU SAYS:

What is your favorite sexual thing to do? (Be as tame or as perverted as you like.)

compiled by Michael McClellan

I’m a sadist… use your imagination.

(c)

I don’t care what “activity” starts things off but I like a variety in one “session.” New locations never hurt, either… Girl on top.

violin player serenading you with Canon in D...

Receiving oral sex, preferably by a three-titted, winged Halle Berry.

Sucking on a juicy cock.

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Cunnilingus.

Truth or dare.

Finding new and exciting places to have sex, like outside, at the beach, on the dining room table, etc.

Being dominated, with a leash involved.

Masturbation.

Getting fucked.

Girl on top in a chair, preferably a couch or love-seat, to provide a solid base.

Anything that involves large amounts of blood. Just want to get laid.

69-ing to bad techno music.

Bondage.

Repeatedly inserting my penis into the vagina of a woman, usually after performing cunnilingus.

My face buried in vagina. I’m a simple man.

Getting a blowjob.

Black hanky, right pocket.

Anything, as long as they don’t say no.

Definitely a fan of the strap-on. I never thought I would be, but there it is!

Cuddling (yes it can be sexual)!

Making out heavily in just our underwear, crotches grinding together, while running our fingers up and down one another’s backs. Rim jobs – probably my favorite. Sweetly gazing into each other’s eyes while drinking Chianti red wine by a crackling fire place... A sunset in the distance, a box of chocolates by your side, and a personal

If there’s no foreplay, there can be no sex as far as I’m concerned— any activity is fine as long as it’s not jumping right into it! I prefer giving to receiving… however you’d like to TAKE that… Anything spontaneous. Anywhere.


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TEACHER PROFILE:

3 Pasi

anen

English Department

by Jen Glifort Professor Mary Anne Nunn has been teaching at Central for eighteen years. To Professor Nunn, teaching is her chance to dig deeper into literature, and see it all from a new perspective: that of her students. “I am given wonderful gifts by my students’ perception of this material that I know well. It’s wonderful. They give me ideas.” In her path to teaching, however, she wasn’t always so sure. When asked why she wanted to become a teacher, Professor Nunn replies, “I wish I had a wonderful, noble story to tell you, but I don’t, really.” Professor Nunn was born in Alexandria,Virginia, and lived on both the Maryland and the Virginia side of Washington, D.C. She went to school at Sidwell Friends from age five to seventeen, and then earned her bachelor’s degree at Kenyan College in Ohio. She has both a Master’s and a Doctorate from the University of Virginia. It was at Kenyan College that young Nunn realized that English was right for her. As a double-major in English and Drama, she considered becoming an actress. “Performers live very uncomfortable, unstable lives,” she explains, “and I like stability, and so I realized that even if I was successful, I would not live the kind of life that I wanted to live, and I realized the chances of my being successful were very small.” After a few years of working in the bookstore at the Smithsonian Museum of Natural History, Nunn asked herself where she was last really happy. “I really loved academic work, so I went back for a Master’s degree, not really knowing exactly what I was going to do with it, and I went on for a doctoral degree, also not really knowing what I was going to do with it, and I made my money once I was qualified to teach, and I really enjoyed teaching, so I kind of backed into it. It was a very indirect path into the classroom, but I’m glad to have gotten here.” When she isn’t teaching, Professor Nunn enjoys singing in a choir and, of course, reading. “When I have a moment and can sit down and just wallow in

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something, and just enjoy it and not worry about analyzing it or teaching it, just enjoy it for its wonder, then that’s something I really enjoy doing.” Terry Pratchett and his Disc World series is her go-to pleasure reading. Professor Nunn enjoys the atmosphere in her department here at Central. “This English department is so collegial, and such a supportive place. I feel like all of my colleagues are eager to be in the classroom. They are interested in the material, they are interested in other peoples’ work, it’s a pleasure to be here, it really is,” she says emphatically. “I have a tremendous amount of admiration for my colleagues. They respect my work as well, so that is a real pleasure, because a lot of academic departments are not supportive places, but this English department really is.”

(c) 2011 Kasey Gordon

Mary Anne Nunn,

(c) 200


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She also cites the variety of her students as a reason for liking Central. In other schools where she has taught, the students “all came from the same background, had the same kind of education, their perspectives and their takes were very predictable. You know, they were very intelligent, very able, but it was kind of same-y,” she says. The Professor shares the story of a former student of hers, an eighty-seven-year-old grandmother who returned to Central and earned her degree. “You know, I have tremendous respect for that. She was such fun and she brought a perspective to that classroom that no twenty-one-year-old could have, and so at the same time, for her to see the world from that generation’s eye was a very interesting exchange.”

“...language, and a command of language, is power.” A person like Professor Nunn always seems to have more to say, more to give; and so I ask if she has “anything to add” at the end of our interview (as anyone who has ever taken a journalism class has been bullied into remembering). She shares this with me:

“I love words, I love literature. I also teach writing on occasion, and one of the things to know is that language, and a command of language, is power. I’m particularly aware of that because we right at this moment have a President who is a very good orator, and it is amazing how you can remake the world around you if you can command language. “So even for my students who are not English majors, I feel no guilt whatsoever when people say ‘Why do I have to read 17th century poetry? I’m never going to use it!’ If you understand how these masters of language manipulate language and if you learn something from them in that, you have power. And power—well, it corrupts absolutely, we know that—but it can open doors, so I think that teaching literature doesn’t make me feel sidelined or that it’s some outdated thing that’s no longer relevant. No, on the contrary. “I think that a lot of people have lost the notion that a careful understanding of language is an extraordinary tool in a human life. I am delighted to do what I do, and I think what I do is valuable, and if a student finds value in what we do in class that is really a tremendous gift.” And to that, readers, I have nothing to add.


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SEARCHING

sex

AT CCSU.EDU

by Jess Dean One day an elderly man whose table I was clearing at my workplace suddenly asked me if I was a college student and where I attended school. Since I’m used to being asked this on a regular basis I replied that, yes, I was a student at Central Connecticut State University. The man then proceeded to go on a rant about how he would never let his daughter go to a school that offered a “class like that!” And why were the taxpayers’ dollars being used to teach kids about sex? They could figure it out themselves and they don’t need encouragement. I asked the man what he was talking about and he said he had read in the newspaper that Central was offering a sex class called “Fornication 101” and that he was offended. At this point one of my senior coworkers came over and rescued me from the awkward conversation. But the conversation got me thinking about how CCSU addresses sex. I went to the CCSU website and typed “sex” into the search bar; 188 results appeared, half of which I could not discover what they had to do with sex. Some of the more relevant search results involve finding out about sexual harassment and who you can contact if this occurs.

occur. In the Student Center there is the Ruthe Boyea Women’s Center where you can go to discuss all types of issues, and also there is the police station on campus. Both of these places will direct a person on the actions to take after any kind of incident. Moving beyond sexual harassment and other types of related crimes, the search also brings up an introductory class titled “Women, Gender, & Sexuality Studies.” This course shares its name with a minor offered by the school. This minor “is an interdisciplinary field of study that focuses on the experiences of women in society and history.” The website goes on to talk about how the minor and class were originally designed to help include women’s contributions in the academic world. Students who take this minor are also required to take a class titled “Feminist Theory.” The minor evidently is not talking about sex as the physical act, but rather in terms of male versus female. It is still good to know that the school is addressing the contribution of females as well as males to knowledge and culture. The next relevant search item is “sexual health.” This is an Internet link offered by the Health Center. The link brings you to a page offering information on: men’s and women’s sexual health, sexual assault, pregnancy,

Central has strict policies on sexual harassment. The school’s policy specifically states that:

The policy then goes on to define what sexual harassment is. However, nowhere on the page that states this does it say what you should do if you encounter this type of behavior. After some probing through the site I found a page titled “Discrimination Complaint Procedures” that described how to file a sexual harassment complaint. Whoever made this website should probably use clearer titles or make a link to the policies page. Anyways, this page tells you how to file a complaint with the school formally. But, Central also provides other people you can go to if such an incident were ever to

www.ccsu.edu

Central Connecticut State University is committed to providing a learning and working environment that emphasizes the dignity and worth of every member of its community, free from discriminatory conduct or communication. Sexual harassment in any form is inimical to this and will not be tolerated.


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STDs, and gay, lesbian, bisexual, and transgender issues. They also provide links to other websites that provide relevant information. The final relevant link that the website search turned up was Physical Education, the class that every student now has to take to graduate. Physical Education is a mix between gym class and health class. The part that concerns sex is the health aspect. Some topics discussed in the class that are related to sex are: STDs, safe sex, birth control methods, and pregnancy. When I took the class it didn’t differ very much from your run-of-the-mill high school health class. But it’s great that the school has a class teaching students how to be safe.

out of tax money. The program was sponsored by the Ruthe Boyea Women’s Center, which receives donations from private sources. For more about the program, see page 12.

The final topic that I wanted to look up on the website was this “Fornication 101” program. After multiple searches of the website that did not turn up anything, I do not think that the school has anything about it on the website. This may have to do with the people who were upset by the program. Even though the school does not have information on the subject, there is plenty offered online about the specific program as well as about the issue Connecticut residents had with it. According to the Hartford Courant, people were upset that tax dollars were paying for a class like this. It has since been made clear to the public that is not a class but rather a program and that it is not coming (c) 2011 Kasey Gordon


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THE 10 WORST THINGS ABOUT DORM-ROOM SEX… …and ways to get around these awkward situations, as presented by two roommates.

by Jen Glifort and Jackie Hennessey

1) ROOMMATE INTERRUPTION There’s nothing worse than hearing a key scrape roughly against the door knob as you fumble for the covers and desperately shout out, “Hold on!” to your roommate, whose class let out five minutes early. AGAIN. This creates an awkward situation for all parties involved, and can only be solved with one thing: communication. One slightly uncomfortable text is worth saving yourself (and your date!) from the embarrassment of being walked in on. Unless your roommate wants a free show, be sure to let them know ahead of time that the room is “in use.” To reciprocate, always let your roommate know if you are coming home at an unexpected time while their partner is over to “watch a movie.”

2) QUIET HOURS For those who enjoy a little excited vocalization, dormroom sex can be a bit—well, restrictive. The idea of your RA coming to your door to tell you to keep the noise level down is enough to silence you forever. Unless you think you can contain yourself at any given hour of the night, plan ahead! Dorms have a set period of time during which students are supposed to respect the sleeping/studying habits of others. To avoid noise complaints from your RA or angry morning-after glares from your neighbors, be sure to keep an eye on the clock.

3) BUNK BEDS Depending on your rooming situation, bunk beds may be another obstacle you have to overcome during your nights of passion. Not only is there the everpresent threat of falling off or whacking your head on the support bar above you, but being caged into such a small area hinders your creativity and ability. The solution to this, we must stress, is NEVER TO USE YOUR ROOMMATE’S BED. Layer blankets on the floor! Use your shitty futon! Find a secluded parking

spot! Anything but that! Sure, dozens of people before you have probably used your university-mandated, fireretardant mattress for similar “recreational activities,” but the level of trust between roommates should ensure that after a long day of classes, you are sleeping in no one’s bodily fluids but your own.

4) TEMPERATURE Dorm rooms on campus have two temperature settings: “Frozen Tundra” or “Blazing Desert.” Either it’s too cold to take your clothes off or too hot to do anything once they are. Regulating the temperature in your room can be a difficult thing. If it’s warm in your room, open your windows and turn on a fan until it is almost chilly. Doing this ensures that when the situation heats up between you and your partner, things don’t overheat. When it comes to cold, covering up is really the only thing you can do. Hopefully, the combined body heat will compensate.

5) CLEANUP It goes without saying that sex can sometimes be a bit…messy. The best way to keep your roommate from getting an eyeful when they look in the trash can is to take your “personal garbage” and dispose of it discretely in the bathroom or common-area trash cans. Or do them a favor and just take the whole trash bag out. Also, tidy the room before they return from class: pick up the lamp you knocked over, push the bed back against the wall, and gather the empty Powerade bottles scattered across the room. A courtesy spray of Febreze wouldn’t hurt either.

6) PARANOIA Anyone who has ever acted or worked as stage crew knows there’s a golden rule for conduct backstage which basically boils down to, “If you can see them, they can see you.” The same thing goes for hearing. Ever walk down your hall and know exactly what show your neighbor is watching? Or overhear an entire conversation outside your window? Chances are, these


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7) FIRE INSPECTIONS/DRILLS Did we say there was nothing worse than your roommate walking in on you? Well, the RA just might be. Think about it, things are just starting to heat up when you hear someone yell, “Fire inspection!” This of course is followed by excited rapping on your door as you hop on one leg, trying to get a pair of pajama pants on before the RA assumes you must be hiding alcohol and decides to open your door. Better yet, is having to evacuate your dorm, half-dressed, with your partner and the other hundreds of students living in your residence hall. These situations, of course, are unexpected and can really only be avoided by being prepared: always have a robe or a change of clothes within reach before you get too involved.

8) “SEXILED” We know the situation: your boyfriend lives on campus, his roommate has his girlfriend over, your roommate wants her boyfriend over, so where does this leave you? In most cases, you get the boot. Killing time in the basement of your dorm or the computer lab while your roommate is potentially handcuffed to the bed can put a damper on your night. No one likes to be kicked out of the room in this situation, but there has to be a system (and a time limit!) to who gets the room when. Good communication is key to ensuring contentment for both roommates. Plan visits with your partner around your roommate’s schedule. If your roommate has a three-hour long class or goes home for the weekend, take advantage of the empty room while you can!

9) MOOD-KILLERS There’s no romantic way to set up your dorm room. A lot of romantic standbys aren’t even allowed in resident halls. Candles for mood-lighting? Fire hazard! Music? Not after 10pm! A bit of peace and quiet? Not on Thursday—or any other day ending in ‘y,’ for that matter. You really have to make do with what you have. Understand that you’re in a dorm room, and this is the college experience. Think about it—we’re all young adults experiencing freedom for the first time. The mood has probably been set for twenty years.

10) SLEEPING ARRANGEMENTS Have you ever checked that “overnight” box while signing your partner into your dorm? Handing it back to the desk-worker who knows exactly what that means can be a bit awkward. It feels dirty, doesn’t it? Then there’s the uncomfortable situation of checking with your roommate about having your guest stay the night. Trying to fall asleep with two people giggling in a bed across the room is pretty difficult. Also, it’s true what they say: single beds are only made for one. Mutual respect between roommates is necessary for overnight guests. Make sure they really are okay with waking up to the sight of your boyfriend in his boxers the next morning.

(c) 2011 Kasey Gordon

noises aren’t at a higher decibel than your average sex-session. This means your neighbor probably got an earful last weekend when your partner visited. You may think you’re “keeping it to a minimum,” but think about it: how loud does your neighbor’s sex sound to you? If you’re worried about neighbors overhearing, try to go about it as you would during quiet hours. However, what’s probably best for you and your partner’s enjoyment is to just let go, stop worrying, and make the most of it. This is college, after all!


12 photo used with permission from Megan Andelloux

“FORNICATION

101” Happened...

and somehow we are still alive! by Vanessa Johnson

MEGAN ANDELLOUX

1.

Stay away from lube with glycerin in it; glycerin is a sugar that can cause yeast infections in some females.

11.

2.

12.

Put lube on the tip of the penis before putting on the condom; it feels better for the guy and can prevent breakage.

3.

Use silk lube for under water activities.

4.

Never go from anal sex to vaginal sex with the same condom; you could get an infection.

5.

You can put a condom on by using your mouth to make safe sex sexier.

6.

During anal sex, the receiver should do the moving, not the giver. This could lead to a more pleasurable experience.

7.

Don’t have anal sex if you don’t want it… it’s not gonna feel good. Kegels (vaginal squeezing exercises) can make sex feel better and strengthen the vaginal muscles.

13.

Vaginas aren’t loose, you just have a small penis!

14.

Anal sex is the riskiest kind of sex because it can cause tearing.

15.

Sex should be fun: don’t be embarrassed by what you like and don’t do anything you’re uncomfortable with. These are just a few of the very informative facts that were told to us at the event “Fornication 101” that was put on by the Women’s Center on March 8.

You can use saran wrap as a dental dam.

8.

Use sex toys made with silicon, they are easier to clean.

9.

Don’t use anal beads with string… they don’t get clean very well.

10.

Outer course is a realistic way to practice abstinence. photo courtesy of Melissa Cordner


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were all treated like level-headed adults. And it didn’t hurt that the speaker was younger and more hip than our fifth grade teachers might have been. And since sex education was part of this woman’s profession, she took a fun and open approach to it, rather than treating it as something bland like “the birds and the bees.” It was “Fornication 101” not “sex education.” And she didn’t try to scare us, she was just real with us. That is what teenagers and college students need.

www.shutterstock.com

There was nothing for people to freak out about. Orgies didn’t break out. No riots occurred. Central students weren’t corrupted by talking about sex. So, the public and parents need to chill out.

I think that this was a fun, interesting, and more importantly, necessary event to have on campus. College is not an unreasonable place to hold an event like this. If it was held at a middle school, and in some cases at a high school, I would understand the concern. However, we are adults; ages on a college campus can range from 17 to 50 and can vary from school to school. Some of us are heading to the dreaded “real world” and some of us are already in it. I think that if we can handle some of the professors, assignments, jobs and stress levels we are forced to endure in college, then a sex talk should be a breeze. To those who were worried about this event taking place, loosen up. Sex is gonna happen; we might as well get all of the information first and be safe about it. After all, knowledge is power.

Seriously. We weren’t told to have 5,000 sex partners, nor were we told to even have premarital sex. What we learned at this event was how to have fun while having safe sex, if we do want to indulge in such activities. We were told how to prevent pregnancy, STDs, broken condoms and more. And yeah, we’ve learned many of these things in school before, but not like this. Sex education in school was always treated in very clinical terms and left many students too afraid to ask questions. Many sex events I’ve been to in college (not necessarily at this school) were either treated as a joke or gave very basic information that I already knew. I’m not claiming to be an expert of course, but I rarely found that new and interesting facts were given to students. “Fornication 101,” however, kept me interested for the entire two-hour period. I learned a lot and I think others did as well. We received fun facts as well as ones important to our health. We were spoken to in ways we could relate to and understand. No one was shamed or singled out; we

For More Information About

Megan Andelloux, visit her website at

www.ohmegan.com


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PROFESSIONAL DOMINATRIX by Jackie Hennessey

In February of last year, I wrote an article about an unconventional Renaissance Faire I was forced into going to, which I casually refer to as the “kink-convention.” Jeff Mach’s “Wicked Faire” has since been an important event for me, despite how often I will openly joke about the experience. It was there at “Wicked” I was introduced to Goddess Thain, the head sadist at the Faire. My friends, Jamie and Molly, joined Thain in a performance that weekend and I attended all of her workshops following it, as her style of teaching and her general personality had absolutely captured my interest. For the following two days I watched, assisted, and learned from Goddess Thain about BDSM, something I have never seen expressed so openly before. As informative as her workshops were on the practices, safety measures, and general guidelines of BDSM, Goddess Thain did not get into much detail about her professional life outside of the Faire. I found myself becoming very curious about the underground aspect of her occupation. BDSM, or “Bondage/Discipline, Dominance/ Submission, Sado/Masochism,” is what Goddess Thain calls, “A very simple acronym for a very complicated lifestyle.” I soon found out that “complicated” was a complete underestimation of the scene as a whole. I read on the subject more and more during the time I was speaking to Thain, and as I compiled general questions about the subject, it was difficult to figure out where to start. I decided to keep it simple, first asking about her occupational title. Thain says her favorite professional title is “Alternative Lifestyle Consultant,” though she also goes by “Dominatrix, Domme, Pro-Domme, or ‘Mistress.’” That’s all well and good but someone who hasn’t been looking up BSDM terms might not know what that means, exactly. Thain explains, “Basically, we run the range from kink-friendly therapists to facilitators of kinks and fetishes in healthy and, I do have to admit, occasionally unhealthy fashions.” Thain has been a professional sadist for over ten years, starting off back in 2000.

Like what you read? Follow Goddess Thain on Twitter! http://www.twitter.com/GoddessThain

“I went to my first Dracula’s Ball that Halloween, met some people, asked some questions, and was lucky enough to have a om job interview a week later at Olde ys.c xto w.la w English Chambers, the commercial w dungeon with the best reputation in the city. It’s no longer around, but I was very lucky to accidentally stumble into the ideal way to get into this particular career field: find a dungeon, find a mentor, find your niche, and figure out what you like through trial-anderror.” Currently, Thain is one of the heads at a Chamber, a Domme’s place of work, in Philadelphia, where she says there is no such thing as a “typical day.” The workload can range from being dead (in which case she studies for classes) to being so back-to-back she rarely has time to breathe (having worn a corset, myself, I trust this is no exaggeration!). The work can be difficult but Thain says, “I am a sadist! There are no other jobs that could express that aspect of myself without risking getting arrested. I wouldn’t want to work for the CIA or the mafia in any case.” Still confused about the actual operation of her profession, I went into further detail with her. I figured one wouldn’t walk into her chambers and order a “#3 punishment package, extra spankings, hold the nippletorture.” As assumed, it is not like fast food. Thain says, “I require a list of limits, first and foremost. It’s more important to know what you cannot try—everything else is negotiable.” I recall safety being an important part of her workshops at Wicked—how a system of safe words must be in place to ensure both parties’ safety. Thain explained during one activity that she personally prefers a ‘trafficlight system’ with clients: “green” being a cue that the client is enjoying themselves, and can go further; “yellow” being a sign that the client is on the borderline of a limit and may need to slow down or stop for a moment; and “red” if the client needs to stop the scene immediately.


15 After explaining this, Goddess Thain refers to her shirt: the words “Ouch! Is NOT a Safe Word!” are displayed in bold red letters. Her actual work includes non-scripted scenes that vary based on the client’s preferences and Thain’s mood on a given day. As her rules state, however, the Dommes are not prostitutes and do not engage in sex. Defining “sex” may be a difficult thing to do, since everyone has a different take on what is actually considered “doing it.” From what I’ve read, though, the rules on sex in session basically say that clients may not penetrate their Dommes. In most cases, the focus is on the client and the Domme will stay fully dressed in session. Some professionals even have rules against looking, or the ideation of what they call “pussy-worship.” However, object-penetration is not out of the question for clients who don’t state otherwise, so be careful what you wish for! “The key is that the client does have to enjoy themselves or you don’t get repeat clients, but the Mistress has to enjoy herself, or you may as well just get a regular job with a W2 form and health insurance.” Being unfamiliar to the professional scene, I also spoke to Thain about how she manages her personal life with her professional one. She replies, “All of my friends and most of my family (including my very Catholic mother) know. Not all approve, but they appreciate the honesty.” Being in such a field, Thain comes off as very open-minded and quite comfortable with herself. Thain says that most of the public reactions she gets are positive and tend to be of “fascination and curiosity.” “Even if I don’t come right out and say it, the cashier at the grocery store who takes a little too long staring at patent leather boots says a good deal more than he or she thinks they are saying.” Though, she tells me, “Less often, but still frequently enough to mention, are the reactions of disgust and admonishment that usually go hand-in-hand with someone having a bad experience, or who is repressing their own interests because they think it makes them a bad person.” Not everyone has experiences with the idea of pain and pleasure mixing with sex, but it is actually more common than one would assume. The industry is underground, and while Thain tells me there is no confidentiality code, there is an unspoken courtesy. I asked her if she could share any interesting stories to which she had to refuse, stating, “You never know whose story is going to get back to them.” This actually spoke more to me than any anonymous story: the idea that she takes into consideration the possibility of clients hearing

their own story told. Not only does it say a lot about the level of professionalism she has when dealing with clients, but it says a lot about the range of clients she gets. You never know who could be a client, and you may not want to think about all the possibilities: your roommate, your professor, your parents? And yes, she offers couples’ packages! But what’s so wrong about the idea of being into BDSM (I mean—aside from the image of your English professor bound and gagged like a little bitch.)? On a personal level, it’s more commonly an interest than you might assume. So why is it such a risqué subject for most people? “This is why I teach at Wicked Faire pro-bono every year,” she concludes, laughing, “Someone has to teach the novices that it’s okay to be kinky!” Rules of the Goddess I don’t have sex in session. Perfect manners are a requirement. No drooling on my feet or shoes. (c) 2009 Dan Webb


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Twelve Steps To Becoming A Romantic Poet by Melissa Cordner Since this is my last issue of OCM and I can do this kind of thing, I am dedicating this piece to the professor who wouldn’t let us read Romantic poems out loud in class because that was a luxury she kept for herself. Professor Nunn taught me how to read like a college student (AKA use a dictionary), supported the creation of this magazine, and managed to not hurt me for taking four years to get my AP credits transferred in. She will probably cry at the simplification and lengthy sentences contained in this piece, but the fact that I didn’t hand this in as my final in Eng 336 should count for something.

Every good English major knows the difference between romantic and Romantic—and every really good English major will splutteringly explain the difference to any Twilight fan within a ten-mile radius (really good English majors also being the ones who get to make up words). For those of you who don’t dedicate your lives to centuries-old poetry, allow me to unfairly summarize Romanticism as an artistic movement that shoots down science and logic (and the Enlightenment) in favor of nature and emotion. For a better explanation, take Eng 336, which will help to clarify some of these references since I opted to save space and (English majors avert your eyes!) not support points with direct quotes. While you wait for the class to become available, feel free to follow these twelve steps to transform yourself into a Romantic (oh, and therefore male) writer.

Step One: Idolize Nature. Fact: nature trumps

humanity. It is jagged and unkempt, but more real than anything man could ever produce with all his tools and intelligence. As a budding Romantic, you should not only appreciate this fact, but also strive to help others appreciate it. Need practice? Find a tree. Sit under it and write roughly a million poems dedicated to every natural thing you see; hedges, skylarks, nightingales, and mountains are all excellent muses. For a challenge, personify the Life out of every Plant, Bird and Rock you mention.

Step Two: Seek the Sublime. A Romantic

needs sublime inspiration. Something sublime is wonderful, dynamic, moving, and awe-inspiring; it is raw beauty only better because it’s literally larger than life. To be sublime, an experience must be something beyond you that has the capability to take you out of yourself. It can be discovered at the top of a mountain or the bottom of a bottle, but it must be something that you cannot put into words. The sublime is indefinable, which is why it is your job to do so.

Step Three: Pursue an Altered State of Consciousness. Altered states are more than helpful

in your quest for beauty. Your ultimate goal is to trip your way out of this humdrum world; drinking odors and seeing music are ideal experiences and will let you know when you have ingested enough addictive substance. Passing out is permissible as long as you wake up in a new place, blame fairies, and write a poem about it. If drugs and wine aren’t your style, there’s always sleep and memory. At the very least, daydream a lot; if you haven’t blamed the moon for the death of your lover, you’ve never really lived.

Step Four: Have Manly Feelings.

All of these experiences are going to give you a whole lot of feelings, and some of them might make the other kids look at you a little funny if you express them out loud. Your job is to make sure that no one ever forgets that the feelings you are poetically expressing are the most rugged, masculine, sane feelings around; don’t let them forget that only a person as strong and resilient and sensible as you are is capable of even experiencing these things, never mind capturing them in human language. So go ahead and have a fit of passion. Poetry is a man’s language. If anyone ever tells you otherwise, seduce his sister.

Step Five: Be Full of Yourself. You are superior. You are a poet, a bard, a prophet. Nature does things for your attention so that you’ll write about her. You are capable of capturing experiences other people can’t even have. You write images into being; this puts you on the same level of existence as God Himself and makes you, by association, a god. The fun of being a god is you can make fun of lesser beings; do this in a subtle way by ironically complimenting your readers in your work. Similarly, it is advisable to make fun of all the other Romantic poets while pretending to be their friend.


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Step Six: Epitomize Heroicness. Being better

than everyone else has its price; you must take on the traits of the hero you write about (you know, the one who’s modeled after you anyway?). For example, you will live on the outskirts of society because you are above the corrupt nature of ordinary man and therefore will not fit into ordinary communities. You must follow your instincts and create your own morality. This will make you appear sullen and therefore sexy, but also unsociable and therefore unattainable. In short, you will be tragically misunderstood. Be noble and stoic about this fact, but allow this stoicism to appear as bitterness to mere mortals so that you may continue to be misunderstood.

Step Seven: Sleep With Your Sister.

Your unique code of ethics allows you to do things frowned upon by the general public. This is especially useful because you will lust after women, and sometimes men, that society says you cannot have. If possible, fall in love with your sister or half-sister and flee the country; bonus points for writing a play about it afterwards. Only child? Try seducing the sister of your best friend’s wife—who you’ll leave for the sister of your other best friend’s wife. Also permissible is marrying a young girl, knocking her up three times in quick succession, and then running off with the seventeen-year-old babysitter… who will then write a novel more famous than your poems.

Step Eight: Obsess Over Sex. Even when it’s not

oedipal, sex is pretty exciting and Romantic stuff. It’s natural, so it lets you get close to nature; it takes you outside yourself, so it helps you search for the sublime; AND, as taboo it pisses off the public and enhances your bad-boy persona. Write about sex even when it seems like you’re not. Explore what it feels like to heave dripping oars into shuddering wetness. Imagine a geyser of life-giving liquid bursting into a secret chasm. Paint worms as the rapists of innocent roses. If you’re not feeling metaphorical, just write a poem about an imaginary virgin who’s afraid to experience intimacy; your point will be made.

Step Nine: Revere Youth.

Nobody wants to sleep with an old man. Actually, that might not be true, but you’re not one to find out. Hold onto your youth by living in the moment, appreciating the little things, and ensuring that your words are accessible to everyone, no matter how developed their intellects might be. Use rhyme and repetition to establish this in form, and mirror this with content by killing off your hero before he reaches thirty. Keep in mind that you, too, are a Romantic hero, and be prepared to overdose or jump off a cliff on your twenty-ninth birthday.

Step Ten: Hate Religion. Organized religion leaves little room for worshipping nature and having drug-induced spiritual experiences; belittle it at every opportune moment. Pointing out religious hypocrisies will not be difficult; what kind of god would create cute fuzzy little lambs just to feed them to tigers? The Bible is only good for metaphoric imagery—specifically, apples and angels. It is also fair to call upon mythology when English fails you. River Lethe? Emphasizes forgetfulness. Morpheus? Decides what goes and what stays. Prometheus? Best metaphorical friend EVER.

Step Eleven: Write About Writing. This is

not to mock the act but to celebrate it; remember, you are a poetic god capable of creating experiences with your words. It is only proper that you would pay homage to writing by writing about writing. You must therefore write a poem about poetry. It is also wise to write a spur-of-the-moment epic poem and spend the first book lamenting your lack of hero. Do not edit this section out; this was part of the creative process and is therefore important.

Step Twelve: Be a Tool. When you have achieved

all eleven previous steps of Romanticism, you will be able to see yourself in a new light. No longer will you be a lustful conceited emotional heretic-slash-god; you will recognize your value to humanity and transform into a selfless lustful conceited emotional heretic-slash-god! You will learn to view your art as something separate from you, and view yourself as merely a tool that the cosmos use to communicate with the mortal peons. Nature will pull poetry from you like the wind pulls music from an Eolian harp. You would do well to write a poem about this relationship.

(c) 2009 Kriss Szkurlatowski


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Tips On How To Make A Relationship Last by Vanessa Johnson So, we all know that relationships can be difficult. When two people are together for a long period of time and must endure each other’s flaws, mistakes, habits, etc. Then tempers may flare. In addition, couples often take each other for granted. You may love the person, but it’s not easy to be the perfect boyfriend or girlfriend. Here are six basic tips that may not make your relationship perfect, but can at least make it stronger and hopefully last longer.

Tip #1: Trust As cliché as it sounds, trust really is one of the most important elements of a relationship. If you don’t trust the person you’re with, you really have no business being with them, in my opinion. When trust is taken out of a relationship, what do you have left? Not much. If you’re going to choose to trust the person you’re with, then do it. That means no matter how many people flirt with your significant other and no matter how many friends of the opposite sex they may have, you have to trust them if you’ve made that choice. Jealousy is a natural impulse, but in a relationship it only serves to create tension. And if you’re the one in the relationship with the men or women all over you, you need to find ways to reassure your significant other that nothing is going on. Don’t give them any reason not to trust you. Also, don’t put yourself in ridiculous situations where something bad could happen. If you know some guy or girl wants to get you to cheat on your man or woman, don’t get drunk and be alone with him or her. Practice some common sense and you’ll never have to deal with trust issues in your relationship. Another tip, do what you say you’re going to do. Try not to break promises unless you have a really good reason. This is the person you claim to love; if you try just a little then things should work out.

Tip #2: Intimacy This is also really important to a relationship. Intimacy doesn’t have to mean sex, but it can mean kissing, hugging, cuddling, anything that requires a certain level of comfort that you only have with your significant other. You can tell someone you love them as much as you want, but they need to see that love demonstrated in some way, even if

it’s just by holding hands or slow dancing. After being with someone for a few years it can be easy to forget these things. Make sure to schedule some alone time with your boyfriend or girlfriend, even though it’s hard with all of the craziness in life. People drift apart when they let other things in their life trump their significant other. At least one day a week, go out to dinner alone, take a walk, go to a movie, or do anything to keep the romance alive!

Tip #3: Limit Alone Time I know, I know, I just said to make room for alone time. However, the demise of many relationships is caused by spending too much time together. Don’t forget your friends! It’s important to spend time with people other than your boyfriend or girlfriend, or you really will get sick of them. In addition, you’ll lose the ability to connect with your peers. Just make sure that you have a life outside of your relationship. Also, make sure you have interests or something that you can talk to your friends about, because trust me, no one wants to hear about your boyfriend or girlfriend 24/7. If your whole life is your significant other, then you will pretty much lose everything if you break up. I completely understand feeling like the person you love is your other half, but it’s important to remember that it’s possible to be whole without them. Yes, feel a deep connection with your boyfriend or girlfriend, but don’t lose yourself in the relationship.

Tip #4: Talk In a good relationship, your significant other is one of your best friends. This means that you can talk to them about everything and anything, knowing that there will never be any judgment. Also, LISTEN to what your boyfriend or girlfriend is saying. A conversation only counts when it goes two ways. Communication is so important in a relationship, and although it may be easier to shut down sometimes and not discuss an issue, I guarantee you that will make it worse. I’ve learned from experience. So, talk about your likes and dislikes, future goals and memories. But talk about the difficult stuff as well. If you screwed up, ‘fess up. If you have a bone to pick, pick it. You’ll be happier in the end, and your relationship will be much stronger.


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Tip #5: Fight Gracefully Every couple gets into fights. However, there are ways to limit the drama. First of all, there’s no need to yell. If you have a problem, just address it as soon as possible and discuss it with your significant other. Tell them how you feel rather than just insulting them. Men, women hate being talked down to. And women, men hate it even more. Men have this pride thing that can be squashed really easily, making them angrier. Take note of this and be careful during your discussion. Control your anger and don’t say anything you might regret. Then there’ll be less apologizing needed later on. And there are times when “I’m sorry” won’t even work. Arguments always go over better when they are calm, highlight the issue, and if possible, a solution is found. And your significant other will respect you a lot more for being mature and not jumping down his or her throat.

Tip #6: Get Past Things That Don’t Matter, Note the Things That Do Of course the person you love isn’t perfect. They may snore, bite their nails, be late all the time, hog the blankets, nag too much, etc. It’s easy to let these things bother you. However, don’t. Remind yourself that everyone has bad habits, even YOU. Your significant other has to put up with you too. So, get over it before it becomes an issue. Just make sure that the annoyances are ones you can deal with for 50 years if you’re planning to marry that person. Example: nail biting, not an issue. A tendency to cheat— that’s definitely more than a pet peeve. Learn to pick your battles. Most things you can deal with if you really love someone, but don’t mistake bad habits for bad character traits. There’s never an excuse for physical or emotional abuse, excessive cheating or disrespect. So don’t make excuses for anyone who does these things to you, especially someone who claims to love you…that’s not real love. And you don’t want to be stuck with a person like that for 50 years either.

(c)2005 Noelle Franzen


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FIVE GESTURES THAT SHOW YOU CARE by Jen Glifort

illustrations (c) 2011 Kasey Gordon

Bring your partner soup when he or she is sick. This is a classic. Probably even more classic than flowers. When your loved one is sick, soup is a simple and delicious standby for comfort. Try not to go for anything too lumpy (thickly-cut vegetables or chunks of meat are a nightmare for a sore throat). The best part of this is that it doesn’t matter whether you pick it up at a restaurant, crack open a can of Campbell’s, or make it from scratch—soup is soup, and it’s really the thought that counts. Even I can pull this off, and I once set a bucket of KFC on fire (but that’s another article entirely).

Bring your partner food in general. Provided that your sweetheart has recovered from the aforementioned sore throat, no one is going to turn down free food. This includes but is definitely not limited to: candy (beware of nut allergies—hives are not romantic), ice cream (just be sure to get it to them before it melts!), cookies (with milk, of course), sandwiches, salads, fruits, and the college student staples—pizza, chicken wings, takeout, and junk food. Not only is this a setup for an immediate mini-picnic (why yes, darling, this rock is much more comfortable now that there’s food in front of me), but it’s a thoughtful way to show that you know they’re stressed, busy, and hungry— and that you’re there to help.

Give them flowers. Yeah, yeah. They die in a few days, you probably don’t own a vase, every rose has its thorns—I get it. You don’t want to or know how to go pick out flowers. But it’s easier than ever! They sell them in Stop and Shop for crying out loud. If you’re feeling ambitious, go to the

store, choose a variety of buds, and have them wrapped up nicely. Or, there are pre-wrapped bundles of floral love all set to go. Don’t forget the card and plant food. These serve as a great surprise and a reminder of how you like to brighten your beloved’s day. There’s nothing like flowers to bring a splash of life and color to a white-walled dorm room. And if you don’t have a vase handy, a water bottle makes a great substitute. Hey, this is college. Take what you can get.

Text/call/e-mail/Facebook for no reason other than to see how they’re doing or say that he or she is on your mind. With today’s technology, there’s no excuse not to send a quick message every now and then. However (and here’s the kicker), you can’t do it all the time! Constant contact isn’t good for anyone. Even if they’re always on your mind (awww), try not to overdo it.

Do something creative/spontaneous/impulsive/funny! Do ANYTHING that will bring a smile to their priceless face. Fly a kite, see a movie, have a romantic dinner together, whatever! Write a note (on actual paper, with actual ink; no technological shortcuts) detailing how much you love their smile/laugh/eyes/big toenail—I think you get it. If you’re feeling artistic, compose/sing a song, write a poem, paint, draw. Make something for them. Even if you just hear a song that reminds you of them or read a poem that captures your feelings exactly, share it with them. The thought, effort, and the feeling you put into this really shows your partner just how much you care.


Love and SEX When it comes to love and sex, these are two topics that make me a little uncomfortable, but I am somehow open to talking about them any day of the week. But seeing as this was a topic presented to me for an article in OffCenter, I figured, what the hell? I could write something that would be either really raunchy or really naïve and still possibly have it be deemed as acceptable by the CCSU community. And then I thought to myself, what fun is writing if you can’t write from experience? That’s when I decided to turn my memory pages back to the past year, where the topics of both love and sex had somehow taken prominence in my life. I had just begun to gain self-confidence when my real dating life began and it quickly turned from cat lady to wannabe Carrie Bradshaw. And as many dates as I may have gone on, I was still confused when it came to love and sex. And just like most women, I wasn’t sure when either should happen or would happen, or how to even differentiate between the two. “Women always want sex under the covers,” a coworker once told me. “Guys put you on top of the sheets because they like to see it all even though you may not want them to.” As simple as this statement was, I couldn’t help but wonder if the same differentiation in views of both men and women when it comes to sex could be used for love. Women, most of us anyway, want sex to be something refined and contained, something special that is shared between two people and two people only. We want it to be the ultimate gesture kept in our hearts, just for us to remember and linger in our thoughts throughout the rest of the day. Men, for the most part, spread what they’ve got as far and as wide as they can go until they finally decide it’s time to settle for one of us. They want it on top of the sheets where they can see it all, nothing is hidden and secluded or romantically contained the way that most of us women would like it to be. Where does my personal experience come in? Well, last summer I dated this guy for a few months, and needless to say, things got down and dirty pretty quickly. It wasn’t that I wanted them to. It just happened. And all I can remember thinking as I laid on top of his sheets was that it would have been a lot nicer and a lot more romantic if we were underneath them. And of course, my instincts as a woman who analyzes everything kicked in. What if he sees me solely as a sex object? Is this what it’s supposed

to be like when you’re dating someone you really like and care for? Does he care all that much about me? Will I see him again after this? These thoughts whipped their way around my rollercoaster of a mind the entire time, and that was when I noticed that the biggest powers that sex seems to possess on anyone are those of vulnerability and insecurity.Vulnerability in the sense that we are our complete selves at that moment in front of that person that we choose to sleep with. We are everything that we want someone to experience yet want no one to see. And although there may not be many insecurities in the physical aspect of being nude in front of someone, they come afterward in the thoughts and questions that we never thought would show. The summer went by, and every time I was with this person, I wasn’t sure how I felt. Did I like him? Was it just the fact that I was intimate with him? Did he want to be with me? Was I good at sex? I became a different person, more vulnerable and insecure than I had ever been. And then I wondered, yet again, were these the effects of love or of sex? Both love and sex were notorious for making me feel anxious, insecure, extremely vulnerable, and unsure of any situation. Both were capable of being under the covers, and if they were on top of the covers, I wasn’t so sure that I wanted them anymore. And if both love and sex hold such a similar sense of power, does it really make much sense to differentiate between them anymore? And can one exist without the other? I’m sure these are answers I will always search for and never find. (c) 2007 Konstantin Schneider

by Eunice Rivera

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Dating Etiquette by Michael McClellan

clothing or inflatable dart boards.

After over two years of braving the world of dating, I have come to the conclusion that most people have no idea how to date. Now I am not talking about being in a relationship with someone – I have never been in one, having never gotten that far. However, I have gone on many a date with many a guy, and I can say there’s definitely a certain etiquette to go along with it. There are certain rules that everyone should know – things that I feel fall under common sense and common courtesy, yet for some reason are very rarely implemented. This must change. And I know all you heterosexuals will be thinking, “Oh, he’s gay, this can’t possibly apply to me.” It does. This applies to everyone, regardless of gender or sexual orientation. I can summarize all of this into two basic categories: Don’t Be a Dick (DBD), and Have Some Balls (HSB). I would just say “Be Respectful,” but apparently that’s not clear cut enough for most people. So here we go.

2) Don’t expect your date to pay for you. (DBD)

1) Don’t use something that you just bought for

4) If you’re not interested, say so. (HSB)

your date. (DBD)

This mainly applies to beverages. If you take your date to a movie, and buy them a soda, don’t drink from the soda. I can hear all of you saying “But I paid for it!” Yes, you may have paid for it, but you paid for it for your date. Not for you. If you want a soda, buy your own. Or, ask your date if they want to share a soda and see if they’re okay with that first. Don’t hand your date a freshly bought drink, then take it back later and sip from it. That’s just being a dick right there. This can also apply to food, jewelry, photo by Melissa Cordner

This is pretty damn simple. Always offer to at least pay for yourself. If your date offers to pay for you, then it is perfectly acceptable to allow them to. Don’t start fighting over who pays for both of you.

3) Try to control your temper if your date accidentally mentions a sore topic. (DBD)

If your mom died last week, and your date mentions how much they hate theirs, try not to start yelling obscenities at them about how they should appreciate what they have. If you haven’t gotten over something yet, why are you dating? And your date has no idea what’s going on in your life; that’s the whole point of a date. You’re getting to know a new person, hopefully to build something special with them. And if we all avoided potentially touchy subjects to keep from hurting our date’s feelings, that would leave precious little to talk about.

If you didn’t have a good time, don’t smile at your date and tell them you’ll call them later. Because then they’ll expect you to call them later and get pissed off when you don’t. I realize that once you’ve left the date it is no longer your problem, but think about it like this: would you want to be in their place? Would you want to be told that your date had a grand time, and would love to see you again, only to wait weeks for them to get back in contact? It’s a simple courtesy.

5) Text back. (DBD/HSB)

If you’re interested in seeing someone again, don’t wait for them to text or call or email or Facebook you; they’ll be doing the exact same thing. Take the initiative and make contact. And if they text/call/email you, respond in a timely fashion – either to make plans for another date, or to say you’re not interested. Waiting a week to respond is not a timely fashion. And if you’re busy, say so. It takes 30 seconds to send one text. Surely you can spare 30 seconds out of 86,400 in a day to say “hey, hope to see you again” or “hey, fuck off, you’re not my type.” That’s all I’ve got at the moment. I’m sure there are more possible rules, but if people started following even just these five, I’m sure dating would be a much more pleasant experience.


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WRITING CONTEST WINNERS (c) 2011 D. Sharon Pruitt

FAILED FIRST DATE WINNER

“ Failed Date Stories” Anonymous at Author’s Request I have been dating random guys for several years in search of Mr. Right and have had several experiences of bad dates/ encounters. For privacy purposes I have changed their names. Here are two of them:

#1) During my senior year of college, I was set up with

(c) 2005 Fred Shakeshaft

someone through a family friend. Let’s call him Alex. The family friend lived in Ohio and set me up with a tenant who was renting a room from him. I was thinking of potentially meeting him during my spring break since our family friend was coming down during that time and was going to bring this guy. I was skeptical at first but decided that since I was having issues finding guys I would give him a try. We started emailing back and forth and I noticed that he seemed to brag a lot in his emails, like about his level of education, etc. I wasn’t crazy about him doing this, however I wanted to give him more of a chance so I gave him my number and he called me. He was no different over the phone and started to brag about his health: how he works

out, takes vitamins. Apparently no one educated Alex on topics that one shouldn’t mention on a first phone conversation or any conversation for that matter and he launched into his sexual health! However not in a manner that one would think. There were no graphic descriptions or anything but he told me about how one of his friends was on vacation and was about to hook up with a girl but couldn’t achieve an erection. So this friend called Alex to ask for Viagra. Alex asked the friend why he would need Viagra at age 23 and since he didn’t have any was not able to help the friend out. The poor friend ended up not finding any Viagra and the girl he was with spread news to the entire beach that he was impotent. Alex finished this story and said to me (no joke!), “This is why I take care of my health and do not need Viagra. Everything happens naturally.” I almost died and did not know whether to laugh or cry. Needless to say that was the last time I talked to him but I remember the conversation to this day. #2) Another story happened later that year which also takes the cake as far as bad dates are concerned. This was another long distance romance, which soured on the first date. I met this guy (let’s call him Vlad) through Facebook (go figure!) when he poked me and I poked him back. The reason I did this is because I was tired of paying for the dating website I was on and figured that if I could meet someone through a free website such as this, I went for it. We started to email each other through Facebook and he impressed me with his knowledge of literature, particularly Russian literature (he was a native


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Russian speaker just like me) and the overall poetic way in which he wrote. I was slightly intimidated by this but since I generally like intelligent guys I figured I could learn from him and possibly rediscover great literature through his own passion for it. Since he lived in Atlanta (yes Atlanta, as I found out later Atlanta to Connecticut was not the longest relationship he had, he had commuted to Ohio to date another girl before he met me! Talk about desperate.), we met up in New York around July 4th since he had some free time then and was visiting family up there. It was hot and I remember that the Brooklyn Botanical Gardens, which I had wanted to see, were closed. So we ended up just walking around the outskirts of the property and talking. It started off pretty good and then we got to talking about literature at which point he whipped out a big book of Russian poetry which turned out to be Eugene Onegin, one of Pushkin’s great masterpieces. I had wondered what was in his backpack and why it was so heavy. Apparently he brought along books on our first date!!! He read some of the poetry from Onegin and then asked me to read. Yes you read it right: asked me to read to him. I asked why he wanted that and he said, “I want to see how the Russian language fits you.� Fits me? What

(c) 2010 Kasey Gordon

does that even mean? I have to take an exam to be with this guy? Really? Seeing as I was in the middle of Brooklyn, did not know my way around the area and was hot and tired already I obliged. I knew that I could not throw the book at him and walk away since I did not know where I was going. So I read. Not much but I read. We continued our date for some time since I did not want to get into a fight about this with him. I knew that I would never see him again so I just wanted to end things peacefully. Needless to say we parted that evening after a long date of him telling me about literature, his home life, religion, etc. He wanted to make plans to meet again, I said we could talk about that later. He left the next day and I wrote him an email telling him I never wanted to see him again. He would not take no for an answer! He harassed me with emails professing his love for me through really bad poetry and explanations of his behavior. I blocked him on email and Facebook. He started calling me on the phone. I did not pick up but seeing how persistent he was, I changed my number. That was the worst and in some sense most hilarious date I had ever been on.


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ROMANTIC DATE WINNER

“ A First Night in Paris” by Alan Zoll

I can’t believe I’m walking the streets of Paris with the woman I’m going to marry. This was an impulse decision on my part – not the engagement, the trip. She just couldn’t get over telling everyone in her town how her fiancée was taking her to Paris for Valentine’s Day. “Do they celebrate Valentine’s Day there?” she had asked. I just smiled. I’m pretty sure they invented it, my dear. After all, theirs is the language of love. It was my second time in the City of Light, but the first time my fiancée had even been abroad, a Carnival Cruise to Saint John notwithstanding. I had spent the entire trans-Atlantic flight memorizing the AAA walker’s guide and, as we walk, I focus on the many landmarks, the pleasingly vowel-laden street names. I want to show her everything. We have only been in the city for four hours; two spent just getting out of the concrete and glass labyrinth that is Charles de Gualle airport. I marvel at the aesthetic symmetry of this ancient city’s design, the clash of the Romanesque and Gothic architecture, with no idea what my fiancée may be thinking. Is she even enjoying herself? “Why is everyone looking at my shoes?” she asks suddenly. Now I too am looking at her shoes. “What, no one wears sneakers in Paris?” she posits. I look around the Boulevard Saint-Germain. No, it would seem no one wears sneakers in Paris. But alas, my love, we have more important matters at hand! There is beer and wine and apricot chambord brie and Gougeres, whatever those are. The in-flight magazine was big on pictures, but lax on details. I guide her down the Rue de l’Ancienne-Comédie, my destination—the oldest café in Paris, Le Procope. Standing before the historic landmark, I itch to reach for the large brass handle. My fiancée looks at the ornate guild, the stately doors—inviting to me, imposing to her. We study a glass-encased menu perched on its own oaken pedestal and entirely in French. She knows nothing of the language, having opted for Spanish in high school, and, despite my assurances that “jambon” is ham, “poulet” is chicken, and “poisson” is fish, she remains nonplussed. I can see the venerable bar through the paned windows, where sat the likes of Thomas Jefferson and Benjamin Franklin, getting toasted, shaping nations. “Maybe we can come back later, for a drink,” my fiancée bargains. She wants to walk on and so walk on we do, across the Pont Neuf spanning the grey-brown swells of the River

Sienne, the fateful Palais de Justice looming from its berth. She has stopped, and so I stop too. What…did she lose something? “How about this,” she says with a smile that conveys my agreement is really the only option. I stand slightly slack-jawed in front of a restaurant that has no place in these hallowed streets. Its bright neon letters and striped awnings glare almost pornographically against the wrought-iron lampposts and balconets. Even the mailbox looks ashamed. Chi-Chi’s, the self-proclaimed beholder and dispenser of a veritable “Celebration of Food.” I am about to offer a meek protest, a feeble promise that I can find something we both would enjoy when the door thrusts open, almost knocking me back. A young dark face smiles at me, framed by a mass of Rastafarian dreadlocks and topped off with a slanted red beret. “Welcome to Chi-Chi’s!” he enthuses. What struck me most from this sudden barrage of sight and sound was that I first expected the voice to sound Jamaican rather than French. It was instead British. Two steps and then ten and now there is no going back. I am face to face with the hostess, a lovely vision of French poise and grace, resplendent in form fitting black cotton, her single braid of hair running almost the entire length of her back. “Bonjour. Allo. Two?” she inquires as she retrieves two menus from a wooden holder screwed to a wall. Oui, two. “Follow me?” she invites. Yeah, I’ll follow you. I’d follow you to the—my musings are interrupted by the sudden appearance of my fiancée as she angles around me and begins to follow. Oh, right. Sorry honey. “Johan will be your server,” the hostess says in parting. Fantastic, Collette or Genevieve or whatever your name is, we just need to get that beer flowing. “This is fun,” my fiancée assures me. She smiles as she removes her coat, taking in the gaudy décor. I am about to make a joke about having reservations when a voice booms, “Greetings folks!” This would be Johan. What is this, a youth hostel? We’ve got English Bob Marley on the door, Claudette Colbert seating people, now our waiter is German? His bushy ginger beard gives him the air of an art student or a drifter, but his thick accent disrupts what’s left of my Parisian conceit with all the subtlety of a blitzkrieg. His buttons greet me in a variety of festively smiling depictions, one urging me to ask him about a bottomless basket of shrimp. I decline to do so. Instead I order my first of what I hope will be many beers. “May I suggest a Weizenbock?” Actually you just did, no need to ask for permission at this point. I assure him that will be fine. Just keep them coming Jo, I think as I look up at an alligator, nailed to a wall and wearing sunglasses.


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(c) 2008 Matthijs Mejan

“So, what do we have tomorrow?” my fiancée asks. I detail the collections of the Musee du Louvre, the architectural nuances of the Pont du Carrousel, the historical significance of the Place de la Concorde. “Sounds like a lot of walking,” she says finally. Good thing you brought your Nikes d’Americain, eh? “A Weizenbock for the gentleman,” Johan announces as he clunks our drinks onto the grooved and pitted wooden table top, “and a Diet Coke for the lady. Are we ready to order?” I look at my fiancée as if to say, “I don’t know, are we?” She orders a chicken sandwich, fries, no tomato. Why do I get the feeling there will be a desert with sparklers to end the night? Hey honey, did you know “poulet” is French for chicken? Good thing this menu is entirely in English. Guess they know their target audience. “And for the gentleman?” I order nachos from the appetizer list. My first night in Paris with my soon-to-bewife and I’m ordering a meal of German beer and nachos. I imagine that this is what Chula Vista would have been like if Hitler had invaded the U.S. At least she’s finally smiling. Last month we had to take this pre-Cana class at the church where we want to be wed. The happily married couple who ran it actually got into an argument over which of their “Ten Commandments of Marriage” were most important. Most of them were faith-based and moral no-brainers: fidelity, respect, patience, but the one that really stuck out to me read, “Learn to accept that which you cannot change.” I think they meant “in life,” something about our fates being in the hands of God and all that, but for me it was more directly personal. “Can we walk around safely at night?” she was asking me now. Relatively, I assure her. You just have to remember where you are, and know where you’re headed. Dinner over, we walk out into the brisk February night. I recoup my earlier excitement of the city, the people speaking French into cell phones, the very foreignness of the fonts in the signage, the compact automobiles, the scooters weaving in and out of every impediment. As we pass a bus stop I see a poster advertising some meal promotion at a Planet Hollywood. “Oh, they have a Planet Hollywood!” my wife exclaims. “We should go tomorrow night!” Nothing says Valentine’s Day in Paris like eating cheese fries under a half-fleshed replica of The Terminator I suppose. Francois Truffaut is probably rolling over in his grave. But tonight is still young, only nine or so. I’m still looking for a bar, a club, anything to cap off our first night together in this city for lovers. “Are we close?” she asks. Close to what? I wonder. “To our hotel.” Wow, we can be. I guess she has other plans for the night. And not that I mind that sort of diversion. This is Paris after all! Maybe the mood is moving her.


27

We walk back to our hotel in companionable silence, me peering past drapes into lit rooms, her walking head down, her collar pulled snuggly around her neck. “Shit it’s cold,” is all she says as we take the three stone steps up to the foyer of our hotel. Lying in bed at the end of the day I am filled with the possibilities of my life with this woman. At twentyseven I feel I have had enough of the bar-set, beer-soaked single life. This woman is stability, she is reliance, she is home. I hear her turn the water off in the closet-sized bathroom at the foot of the bed. The door opens, she turns the light off behind her. “The hot water sucks,” she informs me as she comes to bed. She is dressed in a Disney Land t-shirt, flannel pajama bottoms, a pair of fleece socks that I imagine having those little rubber sticky treads on the soles. “I’m already exhausted and we have to walk like five miles tomorrow,” she continues. We don’t have to

walk, we could take a cab, I just thought one gets to see the real Paris on foot. My AAA walker’s guide would agree. “Oh…night honey,” she says, offering a kiss that I have to lean in to retrieve. I lay back, a certain exhaustion coming over me as well. I drift off thinking of how the morning may start, of a piping hot cup of French roast coffee, of a fromage-lathered omelet, if only she liked to eat breakfast.

AWKWARD DATE WINNER

“ Darth Vader Destroys Date” by Stephanie Bunney

Have you ever wanted to fall into a deep sleep? Where you could wake up and everything was just a dream? I walked into my date’s apartment, with massive pain stabbing my stomach. Earlier we grabbed delicious greasy Chinese food from the local restaurant a few streets away. I stuffed myself with roast pork lo mein and pork fried rice, savoring each scoop into my mouth. The mouthwatering taste of salty duck was what hit the spot. All I could hear during dinner was BLAH, BLAH, BLAH. Everything he said drained through my ears. I was curious about his new apartment, so when he invited me over afterward, I politely accepted. Walking through the hallway of his apartment, I saw posters of Star Wars from each movie plastered on his wall. At first, I was startled with what I saw. I mean a guy who’s twenty, still into Star Wars? He mentioned that he is a big fanatic of the movie and has a gigantic collection. I felt suffocated and claustrophobic in his apartment, so I told him I had to go to the bathroom. That’s when the gargling started in my stomach and I had to go bad. I let it rip in the bathroom, and felt a sense of relief to let it all out. As I pressed the flush button, water started to rise from below and slowly it flowed. I freaked out and tried to grab the plunger, but it was still clogged. Water was now dripping

over the toilet and onto the bathroom floor. As I plunged the toilet with all my might, his Darth Vader bobble head which was on top of the counter fell in. I shrieked and somehow he heard me and asked if everything was all right in there. I told him yes with sweat dripping on the side of my forehead. I was so nervous and frustrated, I just walked out of the bathroom. I told him I had to go and never looked back.

www.etsy.com and www.ebay.com


28 OVERALL CONTEST WINNER:

“ Like A Virgin” by Cherilyn Bonin Everyone says your first time should be special. You’re supposed to wait until you’re ready, and it’s supposed to be memorable. Sometimes we’re fortunate enough to have that happen. But sometimes you develop a romanticized image of what you think it will be like, and everything turns out ass backwards and upside down. Sometimes it’s more hilarious than it is beautiful and more awkward than it is magical—and that’s not necessarily a bad thing. The worst first time stories are always the most memorable, and that is the point after all, isn’t it? So, let’s paint a picture of one of these unforgettable nights. To start, we need a little background about the couple at hand. They went to high school together in a small town, and they were both very involved in music— but they could not have been more opposite. He was the town’s guitar playing prodigy, and a fearless trouble maker who had recently enlisted in the Marines. She was a chorus girl, an angelic high soprano who was studying to be an English teacher at a local university. He was a rebel, but she kept him grounded. She was a virgin, but he turned her on. It all began predictably enough. It was his birthday, and after a surprise party and a few drinks, the deed was bound to be done. She slept over his house, a usual occurrence for a Friday night, only this time it would be different—she had already made the conscious decision to sleep with him. She wasn’t fully convinced that it would actually take place, but she knew that she was ready. She felt she had been somewhat of a prude, and though he was understanding of her virgin status, she knew this would be the perfect night to take a leap of faith. She, like so many, had no idea what to expect; but she trusted her more experienced partner in full. All the experience in the world, however, could not have prepared these two for the night to follow. As they climbed into bed, he began kissing her passionately. She pulled away from him momentarily, and her dazzling blue eyes stared intensely at him in a seductive way that seemed to scream the words “I want you.” She pulled him in again, and tugged aggressively at his clothing. He reached for the light switch, and as he did, the suave and sexy moments began to dissipate. He looked his fully clothed girlfriend up and down, and in place of some kind of smooth one-liner came the

words: “How are you gonna sleep with jeans on?” She was taken aback for a moment, and certain that she must have misunderstood replied,“…What?” “How are you gonna sleep with jeans on?” he repeated. She wasn’t particularly surprised by the lack of poise in his words, but desperate to salvage the moment, she said, “I guess I’m not going to,” and slid sexily out of her dark wash jeans. He smiled at her leopard print panties with the red lace trim; she obviously came prepared for this. He kissed her again and ran his finger along the lace edge of her panties. She hastily grabbed for the bottom of his shirt and pulled it over his head in one swift motion. There, in the darkness of his bedroom, he whispered yet another unpolished question: “Do you want to give me head?” Her eyes widened in disbelief. She had never done such a thing, and frankly was terrified by his question. She froze for what must have been an entire minute. Assuming she didn’t hear him, he repeated himself. Finally she choked out the word, “No.” Somewhat puzzled, he questioned her. “Huh?” “N-No thank you,” she murmured. He smiled and almost laughed out the words, “What’s wrong?” “I’ve never—I don’t know how to do that.” Getting less and less suave by the minute, he said, “All you have to do is suck on it.” She laughed a little too loud, and then blushed, but he soon started laughing too. Finally he convinced her to at least try it. It wasn’t him suggesting that she might like it that persuaded her, but it was his promise that she only had to try it for a good ten seconds. She figured making an attempt at it was the least she could do, and took comfort in the idea that she could stop if she didn’t like it. She decided that she had to psych herself up a little in order to complete the task at hand. She climbed on top of him and first kissed his mouth, then his neck, and proceeded to lead a trail of kisses down his bare chest. She pulled down his boxers as she did this, and when she reached her destination she took a deep breath, closed her eyes, and braced herself. When she opened her mouth, a bizarre kind of snort escaped her lips. Startled, she snapped her mouth


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(c)2004 Celso Pinto

shut. The noise came again, this time more elongated. It was then that she realized that noise had not come from herself, but from her boyfriend. He was snoring. She looked up at him, and there he was with his eyes closed and his mouth hanging open. She paused, stared at his naked member, and briefly debated whether or not she was supposed to start anyway. Ultimately, she decided against it. Instead, she began searching for clothing to put on. She had to use the bathroom, and did not want to wander into the hallway naked. It was impossible to find anything in his dark, messy bedroom, so she grabbed her cell phone for light. She scanned the floor and kicked away several miscellaneous articles of clothing with her foot, but her panties were nowhere to be found. Frustrated, she sat down on the edge of his bed and let out a sigh. She glanced up at the small basement window and the dim ray of moonlight shining in led her eye to the exact location of her missing underwear. There was, on the wall perpendicular to the bed, a rack that held her boyfriend’s guitars. The red lace of her panties was hooked onto one of the knobs, and they hung delicately from his favorite guitar. She chuckled and looked back to see if her movement had awakened him. It hadn’t, but the sight of her underwear on his guitar was so ridiculous that she was tempted to take a picture. Her bladder, however, encouraged her to do otherwise. She snatched her panties, dug up some pajamas, went to the bathroom, crawled back into bed, and went to sleep. A few hours later, he rolled over and wrapped his

arm tightly around her waist. After a bit of sleep, he was a little more sober, and a lot more ready to go. He tugged at her pajama pants and started kissing and biting her neck. She woke up, gazed into his green eyes and kissed him back. Of course he hadn’t forgotten their deal, and once again requested that she service him. She knew better than to try to get out of it, and wasn’t opposed to trying it, so she sat up and resumed her earlier position. She stared at him for a moment, then closed her eyes and went to work. Despite her best efforts, her attempt was unsuccessful. He was well-endowed to say the least, and her gag reflex wouldn’t allow it. Still, she made a second effort. The second was no different than the first, and she grew red with embarrassment. “I’m sorry,” she said with a frown. He sighed, but smiled at her reassuringly. This was enough to build her confidence back up, and she wasn’t about to let one bump in the road slow her down. She crawled on top of him and whispered, “Why don’t you just get on top of me?” Understanding her intentions, he flipped her over onto her back and this time he took the reins. Having already been an evening full of failures, the couple should have expected nothing less. His efforts were as fruitless as hers had been. For lack of a better analogy, the car would not fit in the garage. Or at least it didn’t fit well enough to stay put. The two tried just about every angle and position imaginable, but nothing worked. Between these attempts, she would return to her original goal, but her gag reflex got in the way every time. By morning, it became clear that there was no hope. He had to be to work, so they gave up. She had no choice but to leave him high and dry with a pair of balls that surely must have been a radiant shade of blue. They both felt defeated, but she felt especially like she failed him as a girlfriend. The funny thing about time is it can change your perspective on everything. As days passed, the memories from that night became laughable. Of course, as is the case with all things, their physical relationship improved over time. When they looked back on that illustrious night, it was no longer a miserable memory. Not only did it become wildly entertaining, but it became a part of who they were. They were an odd duo in the first place, so it was only logical that their first time would be a nightmare. It was as entertaining as it was ugly, much like their unusual relationship. From panties and guitars, gag reflexes, cars and garages, to ultimately blue balls—it was a story that would certainly continue to live in their history.


30 photo by Melissa Cordner

WHAT DOES YOUR PERSONALITY SAY ABOUT YOUR RELATIONSHIPS? by Vanessa Johnson 1. You’re on a first date. You spend it talking about… A.) Your date’s interests B.) Your interests C.) Current events or whatever is going on around you. D.) Anything random that comes up (e.g. how annoying it is when people text at the movie theater) 2. You get back to your date’s place, or they drive you back to yours. The date went well. You… A.) Say goodnight and make plans for another date B.) Move in for a kiss C.) Read his/her body language. If the moment is right, move in for a kiss or ask if you can kiss him/her. If not, then you say goodnight D.) If you get “the look” then you invite your date inside or go inside your date’s place 3. It’s been a few days since the date. You want to see him/ her again. You… A.) Wait for him/her to contact you, even if you have to wait forever B.) Call or text him/her and make plans C.) Wait a week, and then call D.) Surprise your date at his/her place with takeout 4. Suppose you two decide to be in a relationship. One day your significant other wants to have a night with his/her friends but you want to have a date night. What do you do? A.) You back off and make plans to hang out with him/her another day B.) Give him an ultimatum: it’s you or his/her friends. Picking friends comes with a consequence (e.g. freezing your partner out, a breakup, they must beg for your forgiveness, etc.) C.) Prepare snacks for your significant other’s friends. You get to spend some time together while also giving him/her space when the friends arrive D.) Invite your friends as well, make it a party!

5. The relationship falls apart somewhere down the line. You find that it’s best you both go your separate ways. You… A.) Ask him/her if they agree that you two should break up B.) Tell him/her that it’s over C.) Have a discussion together about your relationship. If you can’t work things out, then split up D.) Suggest an open relationship so that you two can stay close but keep your options open

RESULTS: Count up the number of A’s, B’s, C’s or D’s that you chose. If you have an equal number of A’s and C’s, A’s and B’s, etc. Then your personality is a combination of both. Mostly A’s:You tend to want a partner that you can take care of. You want him/her to be comfortable at all times, even if that means jeopardizing your own happiness. You are a kind person because you want to make your partner feel loved and appreciated, but don’t forget that you’re a part of this relationship too! What you want counts just as much. Mostly B’s:You know what you want out of a relationship. You are confident, bold and straightforward. These are not bad qualities, but you need to make sure that your partner is comfortable and wants what you want. You don’t control the relationship, your partner gets a say. Mostly C’s:You’re looking for a relationship where both people have a say. You like to compromise with your significant other and make sure you are both happy. This relationship is definitely promising and you understand how to love and co-exist with another person. Mostly D’s:You are a spontaneous partner. You like to act on impulse and do what feels right in the moment. This will keep your relationship exciting and will keep your partner wondering what you will do next. Just make sure that your partner understands your personality and is up for taking this wild ride with you!


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texts from last night: CCSU edition compiled by Vanessa Johnson

860: Im late! Im coming! Did I miss anything lol 203: Lol, no, they’re on gay time so it hasn’t started yet 860: That dog days song is on. Every time I hear it I just think its a tampon commercial. I picture a multicultural group of women with perfect skin like kayaking. 860: I want ice cream and I hate boys. Plus I have a dr. Appt tomorrow. Bad things come in threes lol 860: I’m in kind of a spot. COLADA practice or Glee season premiere? 860: After I was drunk I was like in my white beater outside in the cold falling over and stuff hahaha but mostly stayed inside 860: I loss my dress shirt too lol 860: So you had the house to yourselves for an hour…? Too bad it’s Yom Kippur. 860: in the last 24 hrs I watched 12 hrs of Dexter. Pathetic or genius? 1-860: Def genius 860: Do we really have class tomorrow? What happened to Columbus Day being a national holiday? 1-860: The natives outed him as being a land-stealing disease-spreading liar with a bad sense of geography?

860: WHY WERE YOU FEEDING GIANT SPIDERS TO A GENDERQUEER IGUANA IN MY DREAM LAST NIGHT? 1-860: … that was an iguana…? Whoops. 860: Lol, I want to meet this creepy brainiac. I’m now picturing a mad scientist with pencils stuck in his hair and journalist notepads hanging from every pocket. 1-860: Wait, that’s me! 860: Hahaha, no, not quite. You’re a flurry of activity, but beautiful! It’s like watching an elegant tornado! 860: Ugh what an awful nightmare lol I hate alcohol 1-860: Hahaha omg babeee what’d you drinkkk??? Or I mean what didn’t you drink?? 860: Dont put your lap top on your lap or we cant have babies!! 1-860: I see you’re drunk 860: Lmao stone cold sober 1-860: Lol really? 860:Yes!! I just learned this and im looking out for you 1-860: I appreciate that 203: Lol, love you too. Hate sperm. Villainous serpents doing the devil’s work. 1-203: Lol, I just found out they can live in your vagina for seven days!!! Little bastards!

860: That’s madnesssssss. Guys these days are way too attached. Just screw me and go home! 860: This week is gonna be bananas for me. I got dumb work ahead of me. A full mural, Five illustrations, three videos and a partridge in a pear tree. 860: Im sure some day shell get hers. Not in a creepy murderer way, lol but you know, karma 1-860: But now if something happens to her the police will see this text and question you. Dont worry though ill have Jennifer Hudson play you in the lifetime movie lol 1-860: Lmao jennifer hudson??? Hahahaha shes too black to be me! 860: Three am. Im not sure if ill make it but someone said it’s the first one in 200 years. Damn science and its inconvenient times 860: Im at the radiology place and they made me wear a wrist band. Are they afraid ill run away? 860: Candles lit and watching dexter…if this is wrong, I dont want to be right 860: Omg youre right! I forgot we could get a studio apartment and itd be enough. That is awesome, itll be such a good price 1-860: It’ll be just like Rent. We can have a trash can fire and eat soup all the time 860: I swear I just overheard “bacon flavored vagina is a GREAT idea.” 2012 can’t come soon enough. 860: Just so you know, I’m going to be late because the Civil War is happening again. No, really.



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